


Patron of the Arts

by ami_ven



Series: Alternate Lives [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Community: mcsheplets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6651874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John meets Rodney’s patron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patron of the Arts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #226 "painting"

**Milan, Italy  
1484 A.D.**

“So, you are the muse that has inspired our _Signor_ McKay.”

John hastily swallowed the sip of wine he’d just taken— he’d never seen the woman before, but he knew exactly who she was. “I hardly consider myself a muse, ma’am.”

Lady Elizabeth Weir smiled at him over her own wine glass. She was the hostess of this party, to celebrate a new series of paintings Rodney had done for her. Her guests included the usual bright array of nobles, but also various craft-guild leaders and intellectuals, and John’s already high regard for her increased.

“No?” she asked.

“Rodney— _Signor_ McKay is a genius, I just help him out.”

“Perhaps,” Lady Weir allowed. “But I have known him for a long time, Major Sheppard, and since you have been in his life, Rodney’s work has taken on a _warmth_ that it never had before. There is a joy to it, even when he paints the most ordinary things. He hasn’t missed a single deadline, and I have never known his accounts to be more accurate.”

She paused, taking a sip of wine. “It is not only his work that is happier, major. I have had these viewings for nearly all of the paintings Rodney has done for me, and this is the first he has attended. That is certainly because of you.”

John looked at her for a long moment. “I have a very deep regard for Rodney,” he said, and she seemed to understand all that he couldn’t say. “Whatever you think I do for him, he does at least as much for me.”

“I’m glad,” said Lady Weir. She squeezed his wrist, briefly, then smiled and took a step back. “I should see to my guests. And you, major, should see to your painter.”

She left, and John looked for Rodney— he spotted him immediately, in a heated discussion with a frizzy-haired man, another artist or craftsman judging by his simple tunic. Smiling, John snagged a glass of wine from a passing server and crossed to him.

“Pardon the interruption,” he said, and Rodney’s expression brightened instantly.

“Sheppard! I was wondering where you’d gotten to. Please tell Zelenka how abysmally _wrong_ he is?”

John smiled, and handed him the wineglass. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine on your own.”

“Of course I was,” said Rodney, but he stood a little closer to John as he continued the argument.

THE END


End file.
